Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Somewhere, there’s a castle, belongs to me
but in shanties, I find, I spend my time.
I can almost see that
where I should be, my hair long, flowing down
and I above it all yet I have relations both at palace and at shack, things
contained here and there,
beckoned by the royal court but feel possessed of those in lower rankings.
I want to be overruled.
You know, nothing’s true unless it’s true. Unless it’s stark and real.
These voices, undeniable, they know my
heart or seem to but then so, too, does, he
the king. He says, “Go and sin no
more” but I’m so afraid I might, I do. It’s warfare in this town and all I want is
my biggest driver. I’m looking for signs in all the wrong places and who is this
woman I’ve become of many
facets? Unsteady, swaying like any young
to whichever wind
happens to be
blowing by, holding on,
only barely, to that
wants to let me go. My purple party
dress is stained in red and I don’t want
to wear it well but fear I do. I wander woods
by night, stopping here and there at confit
cottages and sugared suppositions
when somewhere there’s a castle.